Cloud of Unknowing
by Beneath the Slowboat
Summary: Slight 2Nu. Tragedy. (Summary is a work in progress.)


Stuart dashed across the mangled study. Books were lying in heaps below the shelves, and pieces of the ceiling littered the floor. His heart raced and his clothes were still damp from his narrow escape. A whale had breached his underwater prison. He had barely been able to make it out before drowning or worse . . . being eaten alive by one of the largest and most terrifying monsters on earth.

2D's dark eyes flitted across the room. What should he grab, where should he– a pile of books from beneath the desk shifted. "Bloody hell," Murdoc's curses were barely audible over the sound of gunfire and planes from outside. Panic washed over him. Ignoring his captor, 2D ran to the window.

Through the thin layer of grime on the pane, he could make out a ship a stone's throw away from the longest pier. The vessel was sinking. As the deck grew closer to the foul smelling waves, the whole ship seemed to be disappearing, a dark fog taking its place. A chill ran down Stu's spine. Panic turned to dread that chewed at his stomach. What is the world was going on? He thought being eaten by a large aquatic mammal was the most of his concerns but no.

Plastic Beach was under attack from pirates, demons, demon pirates, and –is that the military?– and probably the military. Shards of glass and flaming garbage flew past the window and bullets traced its curved frame.

2D threw himself away from the window before the rounds could find the pane of glass. An explosion from nearby carved a long crack in the ceiling that reached across the entire study. He jumped on top of the desk and grabbed the ladder that led to the roof.

"There is two of them," Murdoc rasped under the layers of pages. "I can't believe – can't soddin' believe it . . ."

Leaving Murdoc behind, Stu struggled up to the last floor.

At the top of the ladder, he found that the hatch was unlocked and opened. Murdoc had probably fallen through it. He peered over the top and was splashed by oil. He wiped the onyx grease out of his eyes and found himself face to face with Cyborg.

She was lying on her side, a steady stream of black from her forehead traced morbid patterns onto the plastic floor. At a glance, he noticed that one of her legs was missing and one arm was barely attached. Both electric eyes were open wide, but were beginning to flicker as the fuel and life drained from the artificial body.

Just beyond the robot, crouched a masked, small-framed woman. She had some sort of gun in one hand, and a long piece of railing in the other. Her shoulders were shaking violently, but whether it was from emotions or exhaustion wasn't clear.

Tnk!

Bringing his attention back to Cyborg, 2D noticed that it was holding a small, metal ring triumphantly above its head with its one good arm.

The woman suddenly lunged backwards. Surprised by her movement, Stuart's foot slipped from the ladder. He caught himself a few feet from the ground and began to climb back up. The instant his hand met the last rung, he was blinded and shook free from the steps by a detonation directly overhead. He lay sprawled atop the desk, ears ringing and debris pelting him from the open hatch. Stuart noticed that Murdoc was no longer in the room once he sat up.

He used the bottom rung of the ladder to pull himself to his feet. This was quite an ordeal considering the height of the singer and trauma induced balance loss. 2D staggered up the oil peppered ladder once more and was greeted by a completely different scene than before.

Where the cyborg had rested was a large, discolored burn in the previously white floor. Putrid smelling smoke ascended from the charred remains of the robot strewn around the site of the explosion. The gun and beam used by the mask bearer had been swept to the side, but their wielder was nowhere to be seen. The only thing 2D could hear over the ringing in his ears was his heartbeat.

The blue-haired train-wreck clambered onto the roof and scanned around the perimeter of the platform. On the far end, the balustrade was torn away. As 2D stumbled over to the edge, two jets rocketed past the mansion and back out to sea. He reached the gap in the railing and he spotted a pair of hands clinging to a jagged copper bar that was exposed from the wall.

She was hanging there. Forty feet stood between her stocking feet and smoldering piles of rubbish. Stuart reached out, and she took hold of his hand. Her knuckles were covered in deep gashes that dripped crimson onto the blank stare of the mask.

She was light and strong. With little effort, he was able to pull her up and get her upper body onto a stable surface. He grasped her other hand, preparing to help her to the rest of the way up. One final airplane circled the island and dropped a bomb onto the beach. The entire island rattled.

The mask fell from the dark haired stranger and slipped over the edge. The woman's head snapped up and her eyes met 2D's. One of her green eyes was framed by the gnarled shadow of a burn. Blood ran across her temple and down her neck. Her furiously determined glare softened at the befuddled gaze and slightly dropped jaw of the singer. A flicker of recognition then doubt flashed across his eyes. It couldn't really be . . .

The grip on her hands loosened and then clenched tighter than before.

"N-Nood–"

Stuart was cut off by another bomb detonating on the upper part of the landmass. The structure lurched violently and Noodle was sent back over the edge. She slid farther down until only her arms were on the roof. The sound of shrieking metal and twisting plastic would have been deafening. 2D was bracing himself to pull her back up when he noticed how the color was draining from her face. She shuddered once, and then her hands released their grip. Her eyes were wide and terrified, not unlike those of a child or a wounded animal. There was a metallic snap. The copper rod, that saved her before, had embedded itself in her abdomen and broke away from the wall.

There was a brief pause. The fading planes, the ship's spreading fog, the flying ashes and debris – it all slowed to a halt. The world was nothing more than whisper of a melancholy tune and a horrifyingly abstract piece of art. As soon as the realization was there, everything sped back up to normal speed. Noodle's fingertips left 2D's, her face pale still as a mask.

Then she fell.


End file.
